


My Ardent Lips Await Your Arrival

by Exaggerated_Specificity



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, China, Egypt, Embarrassment, M/M, Morse Code, No Sex, No Smut, Norwich, POV Steve Rogers, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Messages, Sexting, That's right, WWII Babies Sending Sexy Messages, War Time Steve and Bucky, World War II, You Think Our Generation Invented Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/pseuds/Exaggerated_Specificity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky sends a message that makes Steve blush.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <img/>
  </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	My Ardent Lips Await Your Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dollylux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/gifts).



> Prompt: Midnight
> 
> I discovered [this amazing article on Mentalfloss](http://mentalfloss.com/article/53690/11-sexting-acronyms-1930s) about codes used by soldiers in WWII to send sexy messages to their loved ones and it inspired me to write this. 
> 
> This is my first ever attempt at writing Steve and Bucky for public consumption so please be gentle.

“Any word?” Steve asks in a hushed whisper as he crouches down in the icy mud next to Sergeant Dugan.

Frozen wisps of Steve’s breath billow out around them as he settles back against the packed dirt wall of the shallow irrigation ditch, his lungs already aching from the cold. He can’t see Dugan’s expression all that well in the silvery glow of the high moon but he can hear the hesitant, almost apologetic worry in his reply.

“Nothing yet, Cap.” Dugan pulls his binoculars up to eye level as he pivots back to the edge of the ravine, preparing to make another sweep of the forest beyond for Bucky’s signal. “Been watchin’ the tree line all night and not so much as a glimmer. Not yet.”

It was nearly midnight, almost time for Dugan to give up his watch, and it had been hours since Bucky had ventured off into the woods surrounding the suspected Hydra base on his reconnaissance mission.

The Howling Commandos had been staking out the derelict Austrian castle for the better part of a week. The road leading up to the fortress was flanked by thick evergreen forest and they hadn't picked up any movement from their outpost on the far side of the frozen farmlands surrounding its crumbling walls. Bucky planned to double back through the village to the east and edge his way up to the castle through the woods, promising to signal with his flashlight as soon as he had news. There hadn’t been any sign of him since nightfall.

Steve wets his lips, doing his best to push back the unease swelling in his chest. He turns to face the rocky embankment next to Dugan and look out over the bright, white field. There was no reason to worry. Bucky was a decorated Sargent and a talented sniper with a wealth of combat experience under his belt. Unfortunately, all the reassurances in the world didn’t stop that pit of worry from swirling inside of Steve, an echo of the same dark ache he’d felt when Colonel Phillips told Steve that Bucky was amongst those lost at Azzano.

“It’s quiet,” Dugan mutters, only loud enough for Steve to hear. “Too quiet if you ask me.”

“He’ll signal,” Steve huffs back, squinting out into the dark. Dugan’s right, the silence is almost deafening. It’s too cold for anything living to do much more than snuggle down and try to stay warm and the deep powder muffles even the sound of the icy wind that whips across the frozen field.

Steve takes a deep breath and tips his head up to the sky. There’s not a single cloud in all that deep indigo and the stars twinkle down on them in silver and pale blue, brilliant and icy in their beauty. The freshly fallen snow is almost luminous with the light of the cold moon. It looks like a postcard or a painting and reminds Steve that it’s almost Christmas. It’s almost time to hold his boy close and thank the Lord they were together again even if their circumstances weren’t exactly fit for celebration.

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” Dugan grumbles softly. “If Hydra doesn’t get me, the boredom will.”

Steve smirks over at his comrade, thankful for the band of men he’s been fortunate enough to surround himself with. It made the cold a little more tolerable, reminded him daily what he was fighting for.

“I’ll stay. Go get warm with the others,” Steve tells him, happy to take this burden on his own. The cold wasn’t nearly as painful for Steve to bear as it was for the others.

Dugan’s quiet, his back to Steve as he slowly scans the forest, seemingly content to stay exactly where he is. Steve settles back down in their trench, saying a silent prayer for a sign from Bucky.

Nearly an hour passes and Steve’s practically nodding off when he feels Dugan shift next to him, his body tensing as he edges up out of the ditch to plant his elbows in the snow.

“About time, kid!” Dugan grunts, eyes still plastered to the binoculars.

Steve perks up immediately, climbing close to Dugan again. “What’s he say?” Steve huffs, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. He sees the faint blinking of Bucky’s flashlight against the inky black outline of pine and birch trees. He can’t quite make out the flickers into dots and dashes from this distance without the binoculars so he waits for Dugan.

Dugan keeps the binoculars aimed at the woods, digging into his pocket with his right hand for his notepad and pencil. The blinking stops and Dugan shoves the binoculars into Steve’s waiting hands for a moment as he stretches his gloved fingers and transcribes the Morse code Bucky had blinked out at them from across the moonlit field.

“AFFIRMATIVE HYDRA,” Dugan whispers as loud as he dares, a pleased grin clear under his frosty mustache.

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, giving Dugan a slap across the back. “All that waiting paid off,” he says as he brings the binoculars up to his own eyes. “He’s signaling again.”

“Here, lemme see,” Dugan grunts as he takes the binoculars back from Steve. It’s quiet again for a moment, nothing but their excited breathing and the scratch of graphite against damp paper.

“I think he’s lost it,” Dugan says, glancing sideways at Steve before looking back at the dark forest.

“What? Why?”

“He’s not making any sense, Cap.”

Steve tries to look over Dugan’s broad shoulder at the paper but the light’s too dim to make out what he’s jotted down.

“Maybe it’s another code? Spit it out Sergeant.”

“Well, Captain,” Dugan says, a little too much emphasis on Steve’s title. “It says TELL STEVIE. NORWICH. EGYPT.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve groans, glad for the darkness as his face flushes a hundred shades of red.

Steve knows the slang. All the soldiers did it. Made up little acronyms to save time or, in this case, talk dirty without others getting wise. Bucky had shown Steve a slew of them one night when it was too cold for either of them to sleep well. They even made up a few of their own.

If memory served, ‘ _Norwich_ ’ was _(k)Nickers Off Ready When I Come Home_ and ‘ _Egypt_ ’ was _Eager (to) Grab Your Pretty Tits_.

Well, at least he had confirmation that Bucky was alive and in good spirits.

“Do you know what it means, Rogers?” Dugan asks, turning back to try and get a look at Steve in the moonlight.

Steve’s silence and strained expression is enough for Dugan to figure out the gist of the cryptic message, even if he doesn’t know exactly what Bucky meant.

“Oh, good Lord,” Dugan groans. “This is some sorta – you know what, Cap. Nevermind. I don’t wanna know. What you two get up to is none of my business.”

Dugan hands Steve the binoculars and shakes his head, trying hard to hide the little smile on his face as he crawls back toward their encampment.

Steve lets him go without another word. He knew his men weren’t blind or dumb even if he and Bucky had tried to keep things professional. It just wasn’t always easy, with the close quarters, and given the lost time they were both making up for. Steve buries his face in his hands for a moment, relishing the feel of the cold, stiff leather of his gloves on his burning cheeks.

He reaches into his belt for his own flashlight and pulls himself back up to the edge of the embankment, clicking out “-.-. .... .. -. .- ” code for 'CHINA' or _Come Home I’m Naked Already_.

Bucky would be on his way back now, maybe with a little spring in his step. Steve would wait out in the cold for him, fully clothed, and kiss his baby breathless for making him worry.


End file.
